


Stained Wrists, Scrape Your Sins Off

by FlamingPotatoArson



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Allura (Voltron), BAMF Lance (Voltron), Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Allura (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Dancer Lance (Voltron), Dancer Ryan Kinkade, F/F, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Friends to Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gen, Human Allura (Voltron), Human Coran (Voltron), Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance runs away to California, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Multi, Samoan Hunk (Voltron), Sassy Adam, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Singer Lance, Subways, The Garrison - Freeform, Triggers, lying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-08-28 18:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16728459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlamingPotatoArson/pseuds/FlamingPotatoArson
Summary: In a world where your wrist is decorated with the first letter of your soulmate's name, everyone craves the touch that will make it flourish fully. And Lance got his, but Keith, his best friend, got someone else.He picks up the phone instead of the pills."I accept the scholarship for Coalition University, under the Garrison, Altean, and Arusian programs. Veronica Alavarez would also like to accept for the Garrison, Altean, and Nalquod. We'd like to start as early as possible."----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Ah! Lance, mijo, what happened to your arm?""Nothing Mama, don't worry. I accidently cut myself cooking."No one said he didn't pick up the razor.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"My name's Ryan, but everyone calls me Kinkade."K, like Keith."I'm Veronica and this beanpole is my younger twin, Lance."----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The years go by. High school turns to university. And then..."Lance?"





	1. What Makes You Beautiful, by One Direction

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [One Day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16712656) by [Florar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florar/pseuds/Florar). 



> Please take care of yourself and notice the 'Self harm" tag. I'm picking up in the middle of the first chapter of Florar's One Day, so I won't be writing much of the scene itself, but if this may trigger or upset you, take a step back and breath. The basics are : Keith and Lance are best friends and have an "L" and "K" respectively. Pidge likes to try to make them touch to see if they're soulmates. Keith would rather it be natural. They're close friends and are walking home when a man (changing it to a teenager) almost walks out into the street. Keith touches Lance to grab the stranger, and Keith appears on Lance's wrist, but Keith and the stranger have each other's names. Lance hides his and goes home, cuts his arm. The next day, he has an anxiety attack in the bathroom stalls, and Hunk comforts him, not knowing what it's about. Lance goes home early, texts Keith "I'm so sorry" and originally commits suicide. In this au, Lance is going to commit suicide when he sees the letters on his desk, about a scholarship to a high school/university in California for his dancing. Veronica was accepted as well, and they swore they'd go together if one decided they wanted to. Lance calls up the school, and enrolls. He's gone in three days, far, far away from the soulmate he'll never have and his friends. Hunk assumes the anxiety attack was about the acceptance letter and Keith is left with "I'm so sorry" on his phone. The story is then about Lance and the MFE fighter pilots at the school before Lance's old friends show up.

_He's never heard of this before._

_He's the only one._

_Alone, alone, alone..._

_He doesn't want to be alone._

_The curling red letters look like something tattooed onto him with a calligraphy pen. Keith's had been a monogram print, black._

_He was gonna be alone forever..._

_Unrequited soulmates...unheard of... the government would probably want to experiment on him._

_Plain white, seemingly harmless letters, the envelopes messily ripped, are stacked on his desk. "Coalition System University" delicately printed at the top, addressed to one Leandro "Lance" Alavarez and one Veronica Alavarez of North Carolina, Yellowseed, 0420 Birch Creek Road. More information is scrawled down the page ;  aged 17, DOB: 7/28/XX , blood type -AB, IQ 137 and 123...Every detail about him is written on this paper...and yet none of would cause him to be unrequited....and yet he is._

_His curtains gently billow out from the window, brushing the letters. The scrape of paper joins his breathing and the birds chirping outside in some kind of isolated world. Lance blinks and one falls to the floor. The other flutters through the air like the wind had swept it up into a dance before it falls onto his phone on the windowsill, ending the waltz._

_He closes his eyes, and expands his diagram. The birds have stopped. The red is still there, slashed and torn. The first letter still sits on the floor._

_He breathes out._

_Picks up the letter. Picks up the phone._

_Dials._

_"Hello?"_

_"I accept the scholarship for Coalition University, under the Garrison, Altean, and Arusian programs. Veronica Alavarez would also like to accept for the Garrison, Altean, and Nalquod. We'd like to start as early as possible."_

_He leaves the pills in the bathroom. If he's destined to be alone, he's going to play his situation like a fiddle. Game on world, he thinks bitterly while he tells the woman on the phone what time he's free to set up a finalization appointment. He's his own experiment._

_He's sick of bleeding from the eyes._

* * *

Tears roll down Lance's cheeks as he snorts so hard his mouth full of ramen noodles almost fly out of his nose. Ryan shakes beside him, breathlessly choking out laughter, and Veronica's giggling like a hyena on his right. Ina's slurping her own noodles around her smirk while Nadia leans against her back, laughing behind her hand. 

" _And_ then he looks me dead in the eyes and said to me "Cadet, if you thought that ship could theoretically handle the combustion of fuel graded above the safety limit, I invite you to drink it." He told me to _poison_ myself,  _to my face_!" Another spike of amusement punctuates James' irritation, the television screen glowing blue and black behind him. He huffs and falls into the nearest arm chair, black sweater stretching down his shoulder as he pushes up against the back of the chair to sit up. "That's what you get," Pointing her fork at him, looking entirely too smug, Ina continues " for eating Lance's Trixx last Monday."

"Karma's a bitch." Pitifully, James groans. It's Wednesday night, the night none of them have a late night shift at some shitty minimum wage job or a night class that goes until 6 am. Wednesdays were sacred, unanimously elected "Microwave and Movie" night, meaning if it wasn't a B class horror film, a cheesy rom-com, or didnt come frozen in a disposable container, they weren't consuming it. Veronica's nails are tacky, still drying, and Kinkade's hogging the popcorn shrimp, but Lance doesn't complain about being pressed between the two. He's comfortable, despite the fact his jacket is hanging from the coat rack and his bandages are stiff against the skin of his arms. Nadia is curled up at Kinkade's feet, wearing his sweatshirt. The sleeves are pastel orange like the  ** _NADIA_** climbing up his leg, and completely turn her hands into paws. Ina's wearing her dad's old jacket, which smells like cigarette smoke, frost, and pinecones, the brown leather sleeves dotted with patches. Lance can smell Veronica's green apple shampoo next to his head as some zombie on screen tries to eat the protagonist's baby. 

Kinkade scoffs. "More like Iverson's a bitch."  A round of cheers goes to that and Lance raises his empty styrofoam cup of noodles. The smell clings to the stained foam and the broth sits warm in his stomach. More screaming comes from the television, as the zombie seems to fall in love with the baby, and James and Veronica start a debate on how much of a bitch Iverson could be - Admiral Sanda was worse, sorry Veronica - and Lance wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now. Candles in mason jars burn around the room, with Nadia's gorgeous calligraphy scrawled on the lids, and the television washes the room out in a sleepy blue light. Kinkade chimes in, and Lance finds comfort in the vibrations through his chest. 

A little bit of home away from home.

* * *

Lance wants to stab Ina's shitty boyfriend.

Listlessly, Ina drifts around the kitchen, making some kind of pasta. She faintly smells like the weed he deals, making Lance think he smoked it, which makes him an asshole, because he  _knows_ Ina has asthma. It's like they're only in a relationship to satisfy some vague need for one, and it's hurting one of them when it's meant to fulfill.

Ina stirs some powdered cheese into the pot, and the lonely  _J_ peeks out of her sweater sleeve. It's all the more stupid, because everyone knows James' has got the matching  ~~I~~ , and they won't even brush against each other. For as smart as Ina is, and as arrogantly confident as James tends to be, neither of them will push past the fear of not being a pair.

As much as Lance wants to slap some sense into both of them, the bandages he always wraps around  _his_ name keep a silent note that not everything in life goes right like it should. He was Keith's soulmate, but Keith wasn't his, and Lance wasn't going to third wheel on a matched pair. Hell, Keith was never going to know he had two soulmates. And the fallout if Lance's tragedy repeated itself on Ina or James would be catastrophic. They were two of his best friends, though he hated James fifty percent of the time, Lance wasn't ever going to be ready to lose more people who had walked into his bleeding heart. 

Ina silently turned off the stove, and went to grab two bowls, almost catatonic.

So he never chided her, even when she was part of the reason she was falling apart.

* * *

Working at PetCo is both a blessing and a curse. 

Lance loves seeing all the cute little puppies and kittens. He loves tending to the older, usually sweeter dogs and grumpy cats. The way the mice and rats scamper around is almost fascinating. Neon colors decorate and radiate off the quietly humming fish tanks. Gueina pigs toddle around like fat, furry logs. And the birds loved to put on a show of feathers and song, for as skittish as they can be.

What he doesn't like is random people bringing in their own animals and terrifying the others, or how half of the litters and cloth beds kick his allergies into hyperdrive. He can handle cleaning up after the animals, but the few times he's assisted in a grooming, he'd been jumpy and unsettled for weeks. He'd cross to the other side of the sidewalk when people walking dogs came into his line of sight.

He'd missed some really cute, fluffy puppies those weeks.

Exhaling, Lance lazily flipped the page of his textbook, ankles crossed behind the counter he leaned on. His fingers softly carded through the ends of his hair, ear smushed in his palm. Quiet Saturday afternoons were the best time to study, not only because he had actually slept the night before, but because Saturday's were rarely quiet and Lance  _could_ exercise self discipline, regardless of how many jokes Veronica liked to make at his expense.

It's summer, the off season, the time many of the college aged students took off for home, while the high schoolers on the other side of campus had a party and student performances, since a parent legally had to come up and sign them out to leave. And more students would be coming back than those who had left, since more enrollments arrived after the break. Highschool exams were before the two week break, but the college exams and performances were two monthes after. Meaning Lance _had_ to study to pass, or risk losing his grade average. 

Studying to be a pilot was a lot less physical than Lance thought it would be. They flew simulations, and wouldn't get in a plane until the end of the year they turned 21, for four weeks of practice flying before the most critical test and flight they'd ever take. And before that, he had to pass multiple courses on astrophysics, aerodynamics, the inner electrical workings of a ship, first aid, protocols, and more. 

A dog barked somewhere in the back and Lance dutifully ignored it to focus on his textbook.

No matter how badly he wanted to play with that dog , he would not cave. This was was first year as a college student of the Coalition, and like hell he'd fail his first exam!

He caved.

* * *

Hands on his thighs, sweat dripping down his face, his core tight to keep resistance. His bare feet are pushed against the smooth, thick muscle supporting him, until the beat changes and his stomach drops as he's swung. He can catch a waft of the pine cleaner the floor's always been scrubbed with, and the rubber of the mats and shoe soles. In one mind boggling second Kinkade changes his grapple and drops him, and then he's caught again. His feet are balancing on the opposite knee while one hand grasps Kinkade's shoulder and the other is intertwined with his partners'. He internally relaxes as Kinkade holds him still, his palm wide, rough, and familiar on Lance's.

Kinkade and Lance had been dance partners since Lance had enrolled four monthes into junior year and the dance class finally had even numbers. While they didn't pair together on everything, they had gotten close enough to tell by the sound of breathing who was their partner and who wasn't. Kinkade had lifted Lance like he was nothing more times than he could count, and dropped him a few times too. And it helped that they lived and studied together too, making any time practice time. 

Delicately, Lance drops a foot to the ground, slowly stepping out and off of Kinkade. Their hands slowly lift to compensate, arms rising like wings. Lance's feet are shifting through lose feathers. He breathes in, savoring the freedom dancing gave him, and the bond Kinkade tied with him. He opens his eyes. The song's already ended, and out of the corner of his eye, Lance can see the film crew packing up. His teacher critically goes over the film with the main director, ruthlessly vetoing whatever she deems unworthy. 

He looks back at Kinkade and smiles.

Some things never change. 

* * *

Laundry days suck. Except theirs's, because all of them had taken some kind of choir at some point and that meant their living room became a concert.

 ** _"So c-c-c'mon! You got it wrong! "_** Lance is borderline screaming through his voice, while Veronica air-guitars on the armchair and Nadia shoot-dances with Kinkade. James rolls off his back, as everyone near desperately sings  ** _,"To prove I'm right, I put it in a so-on-ong!"_** Ina is unimpressed behind her camera, so Veronica launches herself on the coffee table, and then the loveseat, head banging all the way. Lance is surrounded by loose clothes on the couch (clean, he's not an animal), and immediately picks up the nearest shirt for the next line. **_"I don't know why,"_** Nadia and Kinkade are at his back in a second, and James, for once in his pathetic life does something right, because as Lance covers his face from the camera, _**"You're being shy,"**_ he rips it away and leans in for ** _,"and turn away when I look into your ey-y-es."_** as Lance purposely turns away.

Ina, still a One-Direction hater, can't join in on the beautiful music, but she can film their fabulous performance, and Lance knows by the glint in her eye she's enjoying watching them all dance and sing while in their pajamas or underwear.  James is literally down to his boxers, Kinkade's got sweatpants, Veronica is in a robe and short-shorts, Nadia is wearing an over-sized tee Lance is 500% sure is Kinkade's, because it hides anything else she could be wearing, and he himself is in leggings and a tank. 

The beat picks up into the chorus, and everyone disperses into their own direction. Lance makes sure to throw himself at the camera. 

 ** _"Everyone else in the room can see it, "_** Lance points at the camera, Ina giggling behind it, and wow, that is so worth the noise complaint they're gonna get later as the volume rises because of the magic this chorus is  ** _" everyone else but, you! BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE, THE WAY THAT YOU FLIP YOUR HAIR GETS ME OVERWHELMED, BUT WHEN YOU SMILE AT THE GROUND, IT AIN'T HARD TO TELL, YOU DON'T KNOW -O-OW, YOU DON'T KNOW YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL! IF ONLY YOU SAW WHAT I CAN SEE, YOU'LL UNDERSTAND WHY I WANT YOU SO DESPERATELY, RIGHT NOW I'M LOOKING AT YOU AND I CAN'T BELIEVE, YOU DON'T KNOW-O-OW, YOU DON'T KNOW YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL-FU-FUL, BUT THAT'S WHAT MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL!"_**

Veronica gasps for breath and collapses on the floor. Lance, done shaking his hips and pointing at the camera, falls back onto the couch, James spread-eagle on the floor. Nadia wheezes from the armchair, and Kinkade groans from where's he's draped over the back of the couch. 

"Are you done yet?" Ina asks, and Lance furrows his brows as an answer. He glowers at the camera before returning " ** _Baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that flip your hair gets me overwhelmed, but when you smile at the ground,"_** His best friends and fellow 1-Directioner's valiantly add to his voice, and even though James's voice is muffled by the floor, he can feel his strength returning.  _ **"It ain't hard to tell..."**_ Kinkade, the brave soul, croaks out  ** _"you don't know-o-ow..."_**

Right on cue, everyone's screaming  ** _"YOU DON'T KNOW YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL!"_**

Two weeks after Ina uploads it, it goes viral. Veronica finds it a week later.

They all elect not to tell Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One, Done! I'll try to upload soon, I actually meant to toss this and work on something else. Oh, well, yeet skeet as they say.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (SO the first chapter doesn't happen chronologically . A lot of chapters won't with flashbacks at times, so I'll create a timeline and add dates if it helps once I get a bit farther in. I'm not sure how helpful it'll be, but take it with a grain of salt. If it's in italics, it happens before they met up at the Coalition (college). Mostly, we'll be in the present; the first chapter was snap shots of Lance's life before they met up. The dancing would happen sometime in May senior year, but the rest aren't really important (time wise) beyond the studying bit.)  
> ALSO I KEEP ACCIDENYALLY POSYING THIS AIN'T DONE OK PLEASE WAIT TO READ

_Applying for college sucks._

_Keith idly mouths at the straw of his frappe, his phone a weight in his hand. He's scrolling through Instagram (honestly he only has it because Pidge dared him) without looking at much. All he really followed was the local news, which was playing on the television behind him. Hunk stirred his cool brew with cream across the table, reading a black and white document. Shiro was basically unhinging his jaw to eat two sandwiches stacked together. Pidge nibbled her cake pop, the green icing formed into a parrot that looked like a heroin addict._

_Shiro already had his degrees, but him, Hunk, and Pidge were all stuck in the rut called "pick your future as a minor". Hunk and Pidge knew what they wanted to do: Keith was still treading water with his picks, and all of them were trying to find a decent school that would hopefully, accept them all. "What about Apollo?" Hunk said, flipping the paper down onto the table. Keith can see the way Hunk's eyes flinch when Pidge points out "There's no coding program I don't already know. You and Keith could go." And honestly Keith can feel it too. They were never supposed to be a trio, but their fourth member had slipped out last year without stirring the dust._

_Keith turns back to his phone, letting Pidge and Hunk shuffle through the mess of paper on the table. Unconsciously, he bites the straw harder. Even though it's been over a year, he can still see him laughing across the booth. He can still hear him shouting for another pointless competition_ (goddamn, _was he competitive) that he'd pout about when he lost. He can still smell his shampoo and soap, some kind of berry and beach bullshit he'll never erase from his nose. Even the cologne he wore to homecoming is fresh in his memory, stronger than the coffee beans being ground at the counter. His fingers twitch against his phone's casing, but he's spiraling too vaguely to realize anything is wrong until he hears Pidge over his memory._

_"Well, we could try the Coalition."_

_The table immediately fades in half beneath him as something in Keith splits apart and fires off. Shiro's watching him across the table, calmly gauging his reaction for any sign something is off, but Keith's too packed together to let something show, "My alma mater? It would host something for each of you, if you really want to pack up to California." Shiro bites his sandwich a final time before putting it down, the large and delicate_ _A swirling around his wrist underneath his sleeves. Hunk sips his drink before pointing out the details while Pidge finishes off her heroin parrot and pulls out her phone. "Well, I could apply for Olkarion and Balmeran, Pidge could apply for Olkarion, and Keith," a quick glance to him," could apply for Marmora. But we'd probably have to fill more stuff in on our applications to get admitted."_

_"That's basically every college ever." Keith is also surprised with how fast he responds over the blockage in his head._

_"Matt and Dad already work over there. Dad said they're looking for a new astrophysics professor, because the second one dropped out last week. I'm sure Shiro qualifies." Pidge smirks, slapping four application forms down" So are we all in agreement?"_

_Hunk slides a pen across the table._

_He takes a sip of his drink, wishing it would take away the dry feeling in his mouth, before picking it up and signing at the top._

* * *

 

Stretching his arms above his head, Lance let out a long sigh as his back popped. His messenger bag flopped against his hip as he walked down the steps out of the Garrison Academy sector, his first exam only ten minutes behind him. The new arrivals, who had been given study material links, would have theirs's next week, with all different answers to ensure there was no cheating. Buses were already pulling in and dropping off students of all ages. The pathways were getting more clogged than usual with proud parents, bulky luggage, volunteered tours, and outdoor performances. While outdoor classes and practices weren't uncommon, even students who had been here for years crowded around to watch. Lance found himself grateful for his lithe and lanky body as he swiveled through the masses of people, clutching his bag to his hip. 

He had to get back to his dorm for his dance costume, which he should have grabbed instead neglecting to think of the annual crowd this morning. But hey, shit happens.

But Allura wouldn't accept that excuse if he's late, so...

he speeds up, pushing against multiple people.

* * *

Keith has quietly decided he fucking hates the Coalition buses. 

Not in a malicious way, but like, yeah, this-fucking-sucks-but-we're-all-resigned-to-it-kinda way. 

It was really quiet, which most of the time Keith could appreciate, but it was boring as hell. Pidge and Shiro were napping in the row behind him, with Mat, Hunk, and Mr. Holt filling the bench in the back, going on about some kind of robot thing he really didn't understand. The whole bus smelt of artificial air fresheners and jittery nerves. And this one asshole with cornsilk hair Keith wanted to rip out was applying more cologne up front.

God, he fucking _hates_ the Coalition buses.

Huffing, he curls up against the window for a nap.

* * *

  _Lance quietly left his room, his left forearm stinging beneath the bandages he had wrapped around the cuts. The fabric was slightly soft and vaguely comforting, which made him sickened when he thought about it too much. His jacket sleeve didn't cover all of it, the barest inch or so peeking out from where he had to roll the cuffs. The fingers of his right hand curled at his thigh, instinctually wanting to cradle his arm. He dutifully trooped down the stairs, craving a glass of water._

_Mama was running errands, Papa, Marco, Luis, and Lisa were at work, Veronica was at a club meeting, Rachel was probably gossiping with her friends, and Abuelo and Abuela had Nadia and Sylvio_

_In the middle of sipping his fresh glass, the kitchen backdoor opened up, with his mother balancing paper bags of groceries_

_He decided he wouldn't kill himself, but no one said he didn't pick up the razor._

 

 


End file.
